


Fransweek 2021

by TheMsource



Series: Frans Oneshots [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Frans, Alternate Universe - Core Frisk (Undertale), Art, Cultural Differences, Error Sans (Undertale) - Freeform, ErrorCore - Relationship, F/M, Female Frisk (Undertale), Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Forgive Me, Frans - Freeform, Fransweek, I made a doodle for day 2, Love, M/M, Other, Romance, Snow, Weather, oneshots, prompts, themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29319519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMsource/pseuds/TheMsource
Summary: 1: Flirt2: Weather3: Puns4: Trust5: Work Day6: Kiss7: Valentine’sCross posted to Tumblr
Relationships: Frisk/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Frans Oneshots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636411
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22
Collections: Frans Week





	1. Three Times A Flirt

**Author's Note:**

> That time of year again! ^^
> 
> UT Sans/Female Frisk  
> Rating: T

There were only three times Sans could recall Frisk flirting with him throughout their relationship with each other, and each incident always left an impression on him that he could never forget no matter how much time passed or how much he tried.

The first time she had been a child, no more than twelve, and they’d been on the surface for two years at that point. Gradually she’d begun to move slowly from sign language to openly speaking and it had made everyone including him happy.

And then like a toddler learning the word ‘No’ for the first time she’d started flirting, with Papyrus. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t done it before with the rapid and excited movement of her hands, combined with over exaggerated posing that could pull a laugh from the grumpiest of pants, but there was just something different when hearing it in a tiny voice with a cute stutter.

Papyrus had blushed and she had loved the reaction.

Frisk from then on had made it a goal to fluster everyone, even her poor goat mother. Sans though had laughed and gloated about being immune to such things, seeing as he was the master at pranks and jokes, what would one tiny little comment do to him?

What he hadn’t anticipated was just how well Frisk knew all of their weaknesses.

He had been working one of his six side jobs; a part time accountant in a mechanic shop, because he just loved any job that involved math, and had been asked by Tori at the time to babysit the kid while she’d gone out of town for a teacher convention. There hadn’t been a problem, Frisk was a well behaved little tyke and had simply played with some small wooden block puzzles Papyrus had given her, all while Sans had rapidly clicked his phalanges along both keyboard and calculator.

But then out of nowhere, “What are you doing Saturday night?”

He’d abruptly paused and glanced down.

Sans hadn’t noticed she’d moved from across the room to stand beside him, how sneaky to pull that off on someone without ears. Patiently he'd stared at her in wait, knowing the start of a one liner by heart, and was rewarded as she smiled wide and wiggled her brows. 

“Because I’m _accounting_ on taking you out~”

He wasn’t expecting a pun, though he knew he should’ve, but to be flirted with such a thing and in a voice adorably cute and small made his mouth fall open in surprise. Later he’d say he’d been distracted and so unprepared for her surprise attack, but in that moment he’d grudgingly chuckled as a tiny splattering of blue had crossed his metaphorical cheeks.

Frisk had cheated, she was like a cat that knew it was irresistible, and it showed in the way she’d beamed the moment he’d ran a hand absently through her hair to ruffle it affectionately.

“Good one buddy.”

But Sans was always one to trade a joke for another. “But I think taking you out would be too _taxing_. Now that you got a _redact_ ion out of me how about letting me get back to work ya?” 

She’d giggled and had blushed bright red before shyly pushing her fingers together and stumbling back over to her blocks. He’d watched her for a second, lingering on her thoughtfully as he vaguely wondered if he’d truly been flirted with like that before. Tori had always intentionally kept her jokes clean and non-teasing, she didn’t even do pickup lines.

Frisk really was something.

He’d thought about that little exchange for weeks, always while sharing a good laugh with everyone whenever she’d pop a witty one liner randomly, or attempted a small prank with finger guns or brows raised high as her confidence soared.

And she’d always had her eyes on him whenever she did so, always attentively seeking his crinkling sockets and stretching grin as she went from one joke into another with a faint blush on her chubby cheeks.

He noticed, and it was cute.

The second time she’d flirted she’d been sixteen, and he’d been _tired_ , utterly exhausted, and beaten down by another bout of depression and night terrors.

Honestly he’d forgotten that Frisk had stayed over that night until his bedroom door had slowly inched open. He remembered giving a weak smirk as he’d lifted his skull from his hands and chuckled at the single golden iris that stared at him shyly through the crack.

“sup kiddo?” He had glanced at an imaginary watch on his wrist. “bit late for snacking isn’t it?”

Frisk always came to him for snacks or treats whenever Papyrus had insisted on cooking dinner that night, which wasn’t often, but had happened regularly enough that he’d always had to restock after she went home to Tori and Asgore.

Cautiously as if he was going to bite her like a snapping turtle she’d inched the door open and timidly let it shut behind her before making her way to his bed, where she’d fallen with a plop beside him. At first he didn’t notice, but after a second of staring at her he’d easily spotted the dark bags beneath her eyes matching his own.

“kid, something up?” He had been so concerned, she’d always slept well at their house when she’d stayed over but in that moment all he could see was a copy of himself. 

She looked sad, even depressed, and Frisk was anything but.

“I heard you screaming earlier.” She'd whispered.

He’d quickly averted his gaze. “oh? sorry about that, dreamed that they’d discontinued ketchup.”

The look she had given said plain as day she didn’t buy the excuse as she’d lightly poked his shoulder. “I’m not a baby you know, you can talk to me Sans if you need to. I have issues too so I know what it’s like.”

He remembered thinking how different the issues of a teenager still discovering herself were from a monster dealing with both spatial and temporal displacement, how she didn’t have the knowledge or education yet to understand such things, and had only offered a more genuine smile at how sweet she was even if she had been going through her rebellious phase at that point.

“k.” 

“Sans…”

“sorry for keeping you up, is pap out?”

She'd rolled her eyes and sighed at him. “Yeah.”

“cool.”

Silence had fallen quickly thereafter, which had been welcome. With Frisk it was always easy to simply enjoy another’s company without feeling obligated to do anything, and he liked to think she felt the same. They were two peas in a pod, the best of buds.

And sometimes in that silence they’d have conversations that usually resulted in him embarrassing her until she was red in the face, whether over a new boyfriend or whatever was going on at school, while she'd usually lectured or teased him about the new one of his many jobs he’d found that week, or they would simply practice their jokes together like he did with Tori.

And it seemed the silence that night would apparently become the latter as she’d butted her shoulder against him.

“Is your dad Liam Neeson?”

He had thought he was ready for it.

He’d been wrong.

“Because I’m _Taken_ with you~”

Frisk had dropped her voice to an octave he hadn’t known it was capable of as she’d winked at him, and it had given him pause as a light blush had spread across his skull. 

It made his bones rattle to recall how mature that tone had been, at the time it had instantly conflicted with his image of her. Something had made his soul thrum in his chest, and he’d forced his eyelights down to the stripes on her sweater just to confirm she was indeed still young.

Humans had always been odd in how they grew and developed unevenly in comparison to monsters, their voices or bodies maturing faster than their minds or even the reverse on occasion, while his species matured all at once with their appearances reflecting their state of soul growth.

It’d taken time for his mind to reboot but when it did he’d let out a loud and disbelieving laugh.

“kid, what am i going to do with you?” He’d choked while wiping a magical tear away from the corner of his socket. 

Frisk had seen the opening and _taken_ it.

“Keep me~” 

Sans had snorted and pulled her into a hug as he’d ruffled her hair. “okay, bedtime squirt.”

That memory had been, and still was, his favorite. 

It was also the exchange that had led to him catching himself looking at her stripes every time he saw her after that, with just a brief passing glance with no further thought behind it. It had made him aware enough of her that he started noticing just how much she blushed whenever they spoke, or how defensive and reassuring she’d started getting whenever a current relationship came up to the point she stopped talking about them with him all together, and even the way she always stood just an inch closer to him than the others when they were gathered.

And all of that had led to this moment.

On a subconscious level Sans had seen it coming for the last ten years.

Toriel had decided to throw Sans a party for a recent promotion at work, and at first he’d tried to reject it, but she was tenacious. Reluctantly, Sans had let his brother help dress him for tonight and he hadn’t so much as protested when he’d been picked up like a bag of potatoes and dropped in the passenger seat of the convertible.

But now he was suddenly grateful for it as Frisk stood in front of him. 

She’d done her hair up, and had worn a midnight black form fitting dress that showed off the flare of her hips and the swell of her chest, the tapered length of her waist and the pale pigmentation of her skin, she looked so beautiful she stole his breath.

Then she surprised him, by flirting for the _third_ time, right out the gate.

“Hey, you must be the guy that’s going to buy me a drink.”

“am i?” He questioned with a small sip of the apple cider he’d already gotten. 

The blush that spread across her cheeks as she smirked devilishly almost made him choke on his drink.

“Well I hope so, seeing as how you made the room ten times hotter just by walking into it~”

His sockets went as round as the moon and he had to remember to give her a laugh, even if it was weak, and could barely be heard over the white noise of the small crowd and background music.

Sans’s soul was racing.

Slowly his eyelights ghosted down to the delicate curve of her neck and over to the tiny hint of collarbone he could just make out from the top of her dress, and hesitantly, he let his gaze trail lower. 

The sound of a record scratch went off in his head. 

Two thick lines of purple, barely visible but still there, went across, looking so ugly against the sea of obsidian that Sans had to swallow the shockingly annoyed groan building in the back of his throat.

“I’m really proud of you Sans, getting a pay raise really shows ambition.” She said completely unaware of his reaction as her voice took on a thick breathy tone that made him weak in the patellas.

She really did look good tonight.

But he was uncomfortable.

One of the things he’d come to dislike in recent years was how much of a fondness she’d gotten for stripes, and both her goat parents had only ever encouraged that much to his frustration. She’d been told that stripes were a mark of childhood in monster culture, but Frisk had still insisted on them.

She didn’t know how he felt about it, though he had teased her about them incessantly. 

He had never directly confronted her on it. 

Right now they were like a slap to the face.

Frisk was nervous and felt as if her heart was in her throat at just how handsome Sans looked in a royal blue suit, even slightly baggy and loose it still filled out in places that highlighted his stocky build and stature, and she’d purposefully picked this specific dress just for tonight, hoping that he’d finally get the hint that she had a thing for him and would reciprocate with a flirt of his own, but he’d yet to comment on it.

Did he even notice?

Sans didn’t say anything for a moment as his smile seemed to shrink just an inch and his own cyan magic faded from his skull, but then he let out a light laugh as he shrugged and pointedly looked away from her towards the bar. 

“heh, yeah it’s no big deal, just an average _stripe_ nd from the big man. most people get that after a few years.”

Frisk caught the pun, but she didn’t understand it nor his unexpected reaction.

Sans came across awkward all of a sudden. 

He was never awkward around her.

At her silence he took another sip of his drink and faced her again without actually looking at her, his gaze focusing and fluttering between other parts of the room, but mostly flickering down and resting at his feet and the cider he held. 

When he spoke he sounded a little strained.

“Frisk, why do you keep wearing stripes?” 

She tilted her head curiously. He’d never asked her this before, the others had but Sans hadn’t and she’d assumed he was accepting of it, he’d teased her about them sure but when didn’t he do that with literally everything. 

“Because I like them?”

He was disappointed as the white of his lights dimmed in an understanding that eluded her.

“frisk...you can’t...”

Sans didn’t want to tell her she _couldn’t_ do something, she was her own person, but the idea of her still dressing that way and then speaking to him the way she had…his mind couldn’t connect the two, it was impossible.

He knew she had feelings for him because he had them too. Which made what he wanted to say a thousand times more difficult.

The air became so thick it was hard to breathe.

Frisk pretended to clear her throat as she averted her gaze. “Well...I just wanted to congratulate you. Papyrus talked about making spaghetti for dinner tonight but I convinced him a lasagna would be better to celebrate with.”

“...thanks kid.”

He sounded lazy and easy going as ever saying the familiar line, but he looked so detached. 

He shuffled his feet for a second before staring at her with a rare frown.

“listen. i’m just gonna bite the bullet here.”

She blinked. “Um, okay?”

Sans pinched his nasal ridge as he forced the words out. 

“i know you like me, i’ve _known_ you’ve had feelings for me since you turned twenty two.” 

Frisk was embarrassed, and opened her mouth to try and defend herself, but he didn’t give her the chance as he looked her in the eye. “and i’ve had it bad for you since two years before that.”

He was confessing, and she was internally screaming and jumping for joy, before his words registered.

“You...do?”

He shrugged. “yep, all anyone has to do is look at me for more than two seconds to tell that _i’m pickled_ just by being near you.” 

She obviously caught the meaning behind the silly term as she bit her lip. 

Then she looked at him in confusion as she crossed her arms. “But um, all the times I ever flirted with you, you never flirted back.”

Sans grimaced.

“you’ve only flirted with me three times. i haven’t done it back now because of how you’re dressed, as bad as that sounds.”

Frisk squinted her eyes as she looked down at her dress before looking back up at him.

“Are you uncomfortable because of the stripes?”

“frisk, you don’t get it, it’s a cultural thing i’ll never be able to get over because of just how important it is. y’know what stripes mean.” 

Just as he expected she got upset. “I like wearing them though!”

“look no one is saying you can’t wear stripes—”

“ _You_ are though!?”

This was going downhill fast, and he was getting frustrated after having kept hi feelings in for so long, so he ended up snapping.

“horizontal stripes make me uncomfortable! i want to date you but i can’t if you’re going to keep wearing them! if you do, that means either you aren’t interested in being with anyone or you are still a kid!”

They stared at each other.

“...Wait, you’re against them going sideways? Up and down would be okay?”

“yes, as ridiculous as it is _vertical_ would be fine!” 

Frisk broke into a laugh, her arms wrapping around her stomach as she hunched over and tried to look at him through one barely opened eye. “Oh my god Sans, you’re such a goof!”

He was about to retort when she stood and suddenly pressed a kiss to his skull.

Sans locked in place.

She pulled back and smiled warmly. “Fine, I’ll stop wearing them sideways. But Sans?”

He couldn’t function, he was still stuck on the fact she’d kissed him, and was imagining her lips still against his cheek. They’d felt so warm and soft that it was maddening how quickly they’d left, with barely more than a light flutter. So all he could do was hum to show he was listening as he blushed brilliant Azul.

“hm?”

Frisk leaned into him and hooked her arm through his, sending his soul into a tizzy that her human heart matched. 

“I’ve flirted with you way more than three times you numbskull.”

Maybe that was true.

But it was those three times that had made him fall for her.


	2. Yours Weather I Like It or Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2\. Weather
> 
> Error Sans/Core Frisk  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep cringe art for day 2! It's a kiss in a snowstorm!  
> Sorry to those who wanted to read something ^^;


End file.
